


trick of the eye

by danganronpa69



Series: Febuwhump 2021 [11]
Category: DanganRonpa 69: There’s MORE goddamn hope!?
Genre: Angst, Gen, Hallucinations, Paranoia, Sleep Deprivation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-11
Updated: 2021-02-11
Packaged: 2021-03-17 06:54:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29346195
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danganronpa69/pseuds/danganronpa69
Summary: DAY 11: hallucinationsshort continuation ofa moment of reflection.
Series: Febuwhump 2021 [11]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2105115
Kudos: 5





	trick of the eye

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lennardd](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lennardd/gifts).



As was expected, the Conductor couldn’t sleep that night.

Of course, he’d tried laying down and resting his head and such, but nothing worked. No position and no amount of pillows or blankets helped. He felt as though he’d been awake forever, just sitting on his bed in the dark. Eventually, his vision began to blur and his thoughts clouded.

In the aftermath of the second trial, nothing seemed to make sense to him anymore. His surroundings all blended together into one giant grey mush, like a thick cloud of fog. He was in his room, except he wasn’t; he was sitting in the center of a mass of grey. He was sitting on his bed, except he wasn’t; he was sitting on his blankets, the colors of which blended with each other to form a small soft cloud that he sat on. Nothing had sharp outlines. Nothing fit together.

The Conductor sat in the center of it all, yet even he, too, seemed to blend into his surroundings. It was strange. It almost gave him a sense of derealization. He was there, except he wasn’t. He shuddered, a sensation that brought him back into reality a little bit. Nervously, he looked down at his bed, fidgeting with the blankets.

Why was he still awake, though? By all means, he should have just passed out from exhaustion by now. It was — what, 4am? What was it that was keeping him awake? His eyes were asleep. His mind was asleep. Hell, even his limbs were hardly even awake enough to move. The only thing that could have possibly been keeping him awake at this point was instinct. Fear, maybe. It made sense, of course. That second trial had shocked him. It had forcibly taken him and made him accept the idea that at any point, someone could be planning his murder. He wasn’t safe. He was never safe.

These thoughts only kept him even more awake than before. He tried his best to shake them away, but—

Something moved in the corner of his vision. Terrified, his head snapped towards the source.

But nothing was there. The Conductor’s heart pounded against his chest. What was that? Still anxious, he stared into the darkness for as long as he could focus on it.

“Hello?” he called out anxiously.

How could anyone have gotten into his room? He knew he’d locked it. He’d checked a million times to make sure it was locked. His paranoia wouldn’t let him rest otherwise. Did he need to check again? What if he got ambushed while walking to the door? Did someone sneak in? But how? Did they watch his entire breakdown from the shadows?

“Conductor.”

The Conductor jumped, looking around wildly. The voice was distant, yet abundantly clear. It had called his name. Yet somehow he couldn’t identify who it belonged to. He strained his mind trying to pin it on someone.

He cowered in his covers. “Please,” he whispered, “please don’t kill me.”

But there was complete silence. Was his ambusher considering whether or not to spare him?

There was more movement out of the corner of his eye, and he jumped again. Now he was able to identify the shape it took on. The shape in his room — a silvery outline against light from under his door — took the form of… Dedede?

He blinked and it was gone.

The Conductor blinked several more times, narrowing his eyes at the darkness. Yet nothing was there. Was he imagining it? No, he certainly saw that movement. He saw that figure moving around in his vision. He couldn’t have imagined it… right? No, of course not. It was there. Actually there. But Dedede was… dead. He  _ had  _ to have imagined it; there was no way otherwise. Unless…

“Conductor?”

The voice spoke again. It didn’t startle the Conductor as much as it did the first time. This time, it sounded like a question. And this time, the Conductor could identify it as Dedede’s voice.

No, he was most definitely imagining this. Or was he hallucinating? Oh, god, was he  _ hallucinating?  _ Was he really that paranoid? Sleep deprived? Had things really gotten this bad? Or was his paranoia causing him to imagine these things?

Or was it real?

Was it Monokuma messing with him?

What was going on?

The Conductor bundled up underneath his blankets, as though they would protect him from the hallucinations. He kept his head above the surface, though, and sat at an angle that he could see his whole room.

He tried to reassure himself that no one would hurt him, but he found it hard to believe. His room no longer looked like a mass of grey. Instead, it looked almost like an array of eyes on every side of him. Watching his every move. Waiting for the right opportunity to strike. He couldn’t let them win — couldn’t let them kill him.

But he thought he’d seen Dedede, right? And Dedede wouldn’t kill him… right? No, of course he would. Was he being silly? If he were to try and kill the Conductor from the afterlife to make things fair… to avenge his own death… but the Conductor didn’t directly cause his death. Would Dedede take his life force or something like that? Would he wake up in an altered reality where Ashley killed him instead of Dedede?

Of course, these thoughts were nonsensical. But in his state of sleep-deprived paranoia, the Conductor couldn’t help but to consider them, despite how much it hurt.

“Please,” he begged to the darkness, “spare me. I don’t want to die.”

The darkness wasn’t merciful. The only gift it gave the Conductor was a bout of sleepiness that made his paranoia skyrocket again.

He couldn’t go to sleep. If he went to sleep, he’d die. The darkness would get him. He couldn’t sleep. He couldn’t.

Even despite his protests, he ended up leaning into his bed, letting his eyes rest before eventually his entire body fell into slumber.


End file.
